


The Sun No Longer Shone: A Caravan's Journal Entry

by Siver



Category: Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles
Genre: Gen, caravan travels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 10:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9435596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: Welcome to Tida, the Sunniest Village Anywhere!Two caravanners, Luralee the Yuke and Viola the Lilty arrive at the lost village of Tida. The village has long been dead but one lone survivor seems to remain. It is a stark reminder of their journey's burden.





	

Today we were reminded of the great importance of our journey when our travels brought us to the old village of Tida. Many stories have been told of this place and while the details differ one thing holds true. It is a cursed place, a dead village drowned in miasma, its crystal forever darkened.

It is said the villagers remained in wait for their caravan to return to the bitter end. As I think of our own families waiting for our return I can only shudder to think of what would happen to our dear home if we failed in our journey.

I could tell Viola wanted nothing more than to avoid the old village, but our choices are slim and the promise of myrrh dwelt within. How ironic that this town now holds that which would have helped save it.

It is said Lilties are a hardy bunch. As my dear friend took point despite her trepidation I can heartily agree with that sentiment.

Once we entered we were greeted with a sign proudly proclaiming: “Welcome to Tida, the Sunniest Village Anywhere!” Whether that sign is a mockery or a last standing testament to the stalwart strength and belief of the villagers in their home I cannot say. I take both comfort and fear in hoping it is the latter.

I followed close behind Viola clutching our chalice close. Never have I felt more grateful for our crystal’s gentle glow than in that place.

Our paths were overgrown and lined with houses long abandoned and decrepit. As we passed each one I could imagine the life that once dwelt within – children playing, parents hard at work, neighbours joyfully visiting one another so much like our beloved Tipa. A blink and once more death and emptiness reigned.

Unfortunately the emptiness did not last as we were soon beset by skeletal creatures. Thankfully Viola’s spear and my magic made short work of them, however our progress slowed as we became even more cautious in that dark place.

As we moved ever forward, dying grass crackling under our feet, passing by sickly looking fungus and thick webs spun by what large creatures I cannot say, we fought off more monsters and grew thankfully ever closer to our goal.

I’m afraid I nearly ran over Viola as she suddenly froze with her head cocked. Stopping was the last thing on my mind as I wanted to escape back into fresher air and blessed sunlight as soon as possible. She said she heard something. I listened carefully and to my disbelief heard it as well – the softest sound of a moogle.

It’s well known that moogles are unaffected by the miasma, but surely one hadn’t made their home here of all places?

We followed the sound and sure enough caught sight of a pair of wings and the waving pom pom of a moogle disappearing into a hole – the entrance to his home. We followed after with the desire to make sure he was all right and with the hope of seeking refuge for a short time.

The conversation we had with him still holds a tight grip over my heart. I don’t believe I shall ever forget it.

At first it seemed a normal enough occurrence. He welcomed us in happily and for a brief spell we could forget the horrors outside. His home bore the marks of age, but despite the ruins outside it seemed well cared for and tidy. Many moogles welcome caravan visitors and he seemed no different. He chattered amiably at us for a time before we soon realised it wasn’t us he was speaking to.

He spoke of the Millers and the Fisherman’s son and their caravan's return and the coming celebration.

“That boy has his eye on you, Miss Sel Rie,” he said to Viola. He spoke to me as well and seemed to think I was the alchemist’s daughter.

At first we tried to correct his mistake, but he seemed not to hear us and neither of us had the heart to press the poor fellow.

“Elmoah is going to bring some apples by later this afternoon. Would you youngsters like to stay and keep me company, kupo? I can’t eat them all by myself!

“You must be excited for the festival eh? They’ll be back any day now, kupo-po. I hear Ra Sena is planning quite the party!”

Then he gave us a suddenly dreadfully fearful look. All cheer fled from him and his voice grew harsh.

“Ashes and bones. That’s what we got. We waited. We waited and the clouds came down and choked out the sun. Bones, walking bones. Ha that’s all there is now. Me and the bones. Me and the bones. I watch over them all you know.”

“You were there,” I said quietly and felt as though my heart would break with pity. “You were there when the caravan never came back?”

The moogle only bowed his head and turned away. He busied himself with an old worn kettle. “I’ll need to buy tea leaves. Hm yes nothing like kupo nut tea.”

“Join us!” Viola exclaimed. “We can protect you. There’s nothing left for you here!”

The moogle rounded us on and his fur bristled. “Leave? Why should I leave? They’ll be back any day!”

“No one is coming! They’re long gone!”

“Kupheh!” he spat. “Has your mother taught you nothing, Sel Rie? Bringing home myrrh is a caravan’s most sacred duty. They would never fail to return!”

He sunk into a withered and ragged armchair. “Any day, mark my words.” He waved a paw at us. “Away with you now. I’m tired. Tired and dark. But I remain. One must always remain. Tida lives and the sun shines on us forever…” His head bowed again and with the softest of kupos seemed to fall asleep.

We waited a short while, uncertain of what to do, but he showed no sign of waking. We feared causing him greater hurt in both body and spirit and so with great hesitance we left the small hole.

We said nothing until we were several feet away before we stopped and stood close to each other, huddled around our crystal’s light. And still it seemed as though the dark stole our words and so we remained silent until we felt able to continue on.

When we finally reached our prize we felt little joy as we caught our drop of myrrh, and when we finally escaped that darkened village our hearts were heavy.

Tida and the fate of one lone moogle weighs heavily upon us, but it is a stark reminder of what we must do and it is to that hope in us which we may cling and draw strength from in our long journey.

I think we will return to Alfitaria and rest a short while before continuing our travels.

**Author's Note:**

> I`ve been bitten by the Crystal Chronicles bug. Years ago I ran a DnD/homebrew campaign for my sister and I taking place in the Crystal Chronicles world. This was inspired by one of the events in that campaign though different characters and not quite the same situation. 
> 
> I may do more journal entries for this pair though they'll all wind up out of order if I do so since I'm likely to think of something that would happen pre-Tida. Tida was such a sad and haunting place. I wanted to do something with it. When I double checked details I found there was a moogle nest there, so I knew I wouldn't be going too off base by making use of that. 
> 
> In game what is a poor moogle even doing there? What a place...


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